Page 5 of Ride Me Reckless (Millionaire Cowboys of Lucky Ranch #1)

Chapter Five

Whiplash

Three Weeks Later

Colt

W indstorm was antsy tonight with the rodeo jitters.

He danced in place while I adjusted his bridle, ears twitching, hooves dancing softly on the packed dirt. The big paint gelding always got a little wired before a run, but tonight, he felt extra wired—like he knew someone was watching.

Or maybe that was just me.

Kenzie stood off to the side, twisting something between her fingers, all dimples and lip gloss under her hat.

Her boots tapped out a rhythm against the stable floor—impatient but not nervous.

That girl had nerves like braided steel and a way of carrying herself like she was already wearing a winner's sash.

"You good?" I asked, giving Windstorm one last check.

She nodded, ponytail swinging over her shoulder. "Born ready."

Of course, she was.

She stepped up beside me and lifted her hand. A little twist of braided horsehair dangled from her fingers, looped through a silver concho. "Tied this from Windstorm's tail earlier," she said. "For luck."

I blinked. "You superstitious now?"

Kenzie grinned, eyes bright. "Only when I got something to lose."

Before I could say anything smart, she reached for my wrist. "Hold still."

I didn't move. Her fingers were quick, sure, warm against my skin as she tied the braid snugly around my wrist. It was light as air, but it felt like a brand—hot, noticeable, not something I could ignore.

"There," she said, stepping back to admire her work. "Now if I wipe out, you've got someone to blame."

I snorted. "You're not gonna wipe out."

Her gaze lingered on mine a second too long. "Good. Then maybe you'll wear that all night."

Before I could answer, I heard boots approaching behind us—slow, cocky, and far too familiar.

"Don't let me interrupt the love knot ceremony," Rhett said, tipping his hat back and eyeing my wrist like he'd just caught me with lipstick on my collar.

Kenzie laughed and headed to Windstorm, muttering something about warm-up laps.

I turned toward Rhett, already rolling my eyes. "Thought you were in the booth getting ready to announce the first event."

"Was." He cracked open a can of something cold and took a long swig. "But all that 'and she's around the third barrel' crap gets old. Figured I'd come down and check on my moody millionaire bro who's clearly flirting with the junior rodeo princess."

"She's not junior anything. And I'm not flirting."

Rhett raised a brow. "She just braided you a damn bracelet, Colt."

"It's a charm."

He grinned like he'd just won something. "Oh, excuse me. A charm. Next thing you know, you'll be making friendship bracelets behind the bleachers."

I didn't take the bait. I just rubbed the braid absently with my thumb and watched Windstorm circle slowly with Kenzie in the saddle, her posture tall and proud.

I wasn't looking for anything with her. Never had been. Kenzie was just a kid. But I had to admit—it felt nice. Having someone who looked at you like they believed in something.

Even if I didn't.

Rhett leaned against the fence post like he had nowhere to be, one boot crossed over the other, sipping his drink while the sky started bruising purple over the arena.

"You're quiet," he said finally. "Which means either you're thinking too hard or trying not to."

I didn't answer. Just helped unload another horse and kept my eyes on the dusk setting in.

Rhett let out a long breath. "She's back in town, you know."

I didn't have to ask who. My chest knew before my brain did.

"She's staying with her mom," he went on. "Callie said Delia's been getting worse. Confused. Forgetting things."

I nodded once. "Tessa told me. We’ve texted a time or two.”

"And you told me you weren't gonna get involved." He took another swig. "Funny, considering I'm the one who sent them a Zelle."

My head snapped toward him. "What?"

He shrugged. "Callie gave me a sad-sack story. Said they were eating gas station burritos and racing on credit. I figured, what the hell."

"You bankrolled them?"

"Yep. Callie said Tessa was afraid to ask you.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. "How bad is it?"

"She lost Daytona. Car's half shot. Says she's out of sponsor money, and the next race ain't for weeks. Needed money just to get home.”

I closed my eyes for a beat. “So it wasn’t a complete sponcership.”

“Nope!”

“Tessa didn't tell me anything about it. I'm not a complete asshole,” I muttered.

"Yeah," Rhett said, "and that's the part that bothers me."

I looked at him.

"She's proud," he added. "But you think that woman would've come all the way back here, back to the memories, the ghosts, the goddamn rodeo dirt—if she wasn't desperate?"

I didn't answer.

He clapped me on the back. "Just think about it. Maybe you can help."

Across the arena, the lights kicked on. A ripple of sound from the crowd rolled up like thunder.

Rhett started heading toward the announcer's booth again. "Oh—and heads up."

I turned. "For what?"

He gave me a pointed look over his shoulder. "She's here. Just walked in behind the north bleachers. Wearing that jacket with the red zipper, like she used to.”

My pulse stuttered.

I didn't look for her. Not yet.

But damn if my whole body didn't start listening for her footsteps.

Windstorm shifted beneath me as I gave the last tug on the cinch. The gelding huffed, hot breath curling in the air, ears twitching toward the clatter of hooves in the distance.

"Almost done, boy," I murmured, smoothing my hand down his damp neck.

"Colt!" Kenzie called, half-jogging toward me with her helmet tucked under her arm. "You good with the braid?"

I caught her wrist. “Hang on.”

I slipped off the braided tail hair she’d tied on me earlier and looped it around her instead.

“This belongs with you now,” I said, fastening it snugly.

“You’ve got this.”

She smiled wide, nerves and fire all wrapped up in one. "Thanks, Coach."

Then—because Kenzie always had flair—she pressed a kiss to my cheek like she was giving me a special thank you.

I chuckled, swatting at her playfully. "Go before you miss your shot."

She swung up onto Windstorm with practiced ease, tightening her reins and heading for the start gate just as the announcer called her number.

That's when I saw her.

Tessa.

Leaning against the fence post like it owed her something. Arms crossed. Her old leather jacket was zipped up halfway; the red stripes on the sleeves were faded now but unmistakable.

Her eyes met mine—only for a second. No smile. No wave.

But I felt it like a punch to the sternum.

Kenzie whooped as Windstorm surged forward, thundering into the arena with a clean arc. The crowd roared.

I didn't look away from Tessa.

She did, though.

Her jaw tightened—just enough to see it. Then she turned on her heel and walked back toward the parking lot like she hadn't just seen another girl press her lips to my face.

And like it didn't matter.

But I knew better.

Because my chest was still burning from where her eyes had landed—and the part of me that still wanted her was louder than every cheer in the arena.

I barely registered Rhett calling Kenzie's time. Cheers echoed behind me, but all I heard was the sound of Tessa's boots pounding the dirt as she stalked toward the edge of the trailers.

Hell no.

I nodded to one of the wranglers who would look after Windstorm and Kenzie without a word and took off after her. She was almost to the corner, ducking into that shadowed strip between rigs and feed storage where the crowd couldn't see—where she probably thought I wouldn't follow.

She was wrong.

"Tessa."

She didn't stop walking. Didn't even flinch.

I caught up with her in four long strides and reached for her wrist.

She yanked it back. "Don't touch me."

I grabbed her hips instead.

She stiffened, but she didn't pull away. Not really. Just stood there, looking like the past had shown up in the flesh just to fuck with me.

"What the hell was that?" she snapped.

"You tell me. You came here just to glare and vanish?"

"I came here to watch a rodeo, not whatever that was." Her chin tilted toward the arena.

"Kenzie?" I barked a humorless laugh. "She's seventeen, Tess. I've known her since she was twelve."

"Oh please," she scoffed. "That little braid you slid over her wrist? The way she kissed your damn cheek? Looked real professional."

I stepped in. Close enough to feel the heat rolling off her skin. "Why do you care?"

"I don't."

"Then why are your hands shaking?"

She looked down—and cursed. Her fists were balled, knuckles white. She tried to hide it, but I saw the truth flash across her face like lightning.

"You think I moved on?" I asked, voice low, rough. "You think I'm the one who left?"

Her breath hitched. Her lips parted like she wanted to throw something—words, maybe. Or a punch. But I didn't give her the chance.

I scooped her up in one motion—hands gripping the backs of her thighs—and she gasped, arms flailing for a second before she caught herself around my neck.

"Colt—what the hell—put me down?—"

"No."

I kicked open my trailer door and hauled her inside, letting it slam behind us. The sudden silence was deafening. No crowd. No horses. Just the sound of her breath, ragged and furious.

"You're out of your mind," she hissed, trying to shove me back.

I let her.

Her palms landed hard on my chest—and stayed there.

"You want to fight, Tess?" I growled. "Fine. But don't pretend like that wasn't jealousy back there."

"Go to hell," she whispered.

I stepped forward again. Backed her up until her spine hit the wall.

"I've been there," I said. "It looked a lot like losing you."

Her mouth parted again—this time not in anger. In hesitation. In heat.

She stared at me like she didn't know whether to slap me or kiss me.

And God help me, I wanted both.

"I hate you," she muttered.

"No, you don't."

And when I kissed her—hard, brutal, hungry—she didn't stop me.

She kissed me back like she'd been waiting to do it since the last time we said goodbye. Like maybe this was the fight.

I wasn't letting her leave again without knowing exactly where we stood.